


The Happy Generations

by altairattorney



Category: Twin Peaks
Genre: Episode Related, FWWM mention, Gen, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 06:30:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5901859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/altairattorney/pseuds/altairattorney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If he still loves these things – if he marvels at them – couldn’t they really be important?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Happy Generations

**Author's Note:**

> Friends are a rare life experience that many people take for granted or underestimate. I couldn’t. The simple fact of having someone who is genuinely happy to see me, to laugh at and with me, to hug me, to spend time with me, is enough to fill my heart to the point it could burst. I am so grateful, so happy for that.   
> This is a gift of thanks for the friends who made it happen these days. I hope to see you soon again. To me, like Coop, you outshine the sun.

Hammering at people to wish them a good day won’t make it a better one. 

There is this thing with people that Albert cannot get across, no matter how evil the eye he gives back. Fair’s fair – he can’t make it happen with his team, let alone with rednecks who thirst for his money. He still does not desist.

His tolerance of pleasantries is, in any case, proportional to the amount of hypocrisy that feeds them. Yes, young Hailey can mumble about manners all he likes. Albert does not waste politeness on this kind of people.

How the hell do they know it’s a good day, anyway?

Nothing is good, and that’s the goddamn truth. The start of a thunderstorm could never be. He can sense the bulk of the disaster sway just above their heads, with the distance that parts them thinning out by the second.

He is losing his mind, too. In spite of all his rationality, Albert has no way to think himself out of the memory. With the visions Cooper told him about not so long ago, he cannot even afford the benefit of the doubt.

The events, all matching. The girl – so commonplace, but he was not wrong. How could he?

Foreseeing this wasn’t that great of an idea. As he sits at the agent’s table, he reminds himself to talk about it.

Of course he doesn’t, in the end. He should have known. What ever goes according to plan, when Coop is around? He has this way of sliding out of problems, now with a word, now a smile. As he speaks, entire constructs of worrisome perspectives melt away like snow on fire.

Considering what he says does not make sense half of the time, Albert finds it too surprising.

The thing is, it always does. Eventually.

What Coop is good at is starting from his little joys. He does not connect the pieces with the force of frustration – he glues them together in a serene fluidity, like that of jelly, or the warm vapors of coffee. In the foggy highways of his mind, he goes to seek his parallels, his symbols, or God knows what else makes sense to him.

Unlike Albert, Cooper demands peace. It is shocking how strongly he succeeds. When he talks like that, powered by glee and steaming breakfast, he brings both to a silent dimension of his own.

For a dreamer, he is full of a mundane, concrete reality. He smiles at the world way more than anyone else. Who knows – it must be the normal life Albert left behind long ago.

Well, he can nurture the idea, for these short moments at least. He can bring himself to believe it could work somehow. Maybe the answers lie just where Cooper finds them – in the collected philosophy of a forsaken freezing mountain, on the smoothness of marmalade and glaze, or in the waking light that breaks against their mugs.

If he still loves these things – if he marvels at them – couldn’t they really be important?

Albert does not lose himself further. He has no energy to waste, with the unusually pressing matters at hand. But Cooper is right there, alive and well and warmer than their coffee. 

He lets his tense muscles relax, and takes a hearty bite.

In such tranquil company, it may turn out to be a good day after all.


End file.
